


compromise

by Heyriel



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Animalistic, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Breeding, Feral Behavior, Feral Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Fluff and Smut, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has a Big Dick, Intercrural Sex, Jaskier is a tease, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kink Discovery, M/M, Switching, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, and wants to be fucked silly by him, but he's a good pup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23840059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyriel/pseuds/Heyriel
Summary: If Jaskier got to decide, he'd be hanging off Geralt's dick every night. The problem? Not only does the prep take ages, but the strain on his body is intense and not always pleasantly so. They just can't leave themselves vulnerable for hours at a time, especially not while on the road.So when Geralt becomes particularly amorous (which is usually Jaskier’s fault and he’s not sorry) they have to find other ways to cope.------In which Jaskier gets railed by his Witcher and they both learn something new.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 1260





	compromise

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? _Feral Witchers._ Damn.  
> I was aiming for a lot more angst originally -especially about Geralt's penis size and how hard it'd be to find compatible partners. But then these two started fucking (right in front of my salad) and the rest is history.

Geralt will seldom if ever ask for penetrative sex.

He can never really be sure if someone agrees because they want it or because they feel scared/pressured by the mere presence of a Witcher. He's had people  _ break down in tears _ while desperately trying to go down on him and that’s no experience he ever wishes to repeat.

Thus, when he and Jaskier get together it feels quite natural to settle into a dynamic where Geralt is on the receiving end of their vigorous love-making most of the time, happily getting on is knees to receive a good dicking whenever the opportunity arises.

Now, if  _ Jaskier  _ got to decide, he'd probably be hanging off Geralt's fat dick every night but alas, the prep takes so much time and the strain on his body is always intense. It's just not feasible to leave themselves vulnerable for hours at a time, especially not when they’re on the road (and most inns aren’t fully trustworthy either).

Thus, doing it  _ the other way round _ is a thing for Very Special Occasions -the most memorable of which must have been that time they were given free rein of a secluded little cottage for a whole  _ week _ .

The villagers had been, for once, incredibly grateful for Geralt’s services but also incredibly poor. So Jaskier had worked out a deal; room and board as payment instead of gold. Though Geralt had been predictably grumbly about the deal (it went against ‘The Rules’.  _ Right _ .), the large flask of linseed oil Jaskier had shaken at him on their way to the hut had served to quickly ease his temper.

By day five of their little vacation Jaskier had been scarcely able to walk. Nevermind that he’d also started to worry if his ass would manage to tighten up again on its own or if he was in for an extremely awkward visit to the local healer.

He wasn’t, thankfully, and they had an  _ amazing  _ time. (Aside from the walk-of-shame through the village on day eight. “Witcher’s whore” they called out of their huts as Jaskier walked by pleasantly bow-legged -they weren’t wrong but hey!)

Most times though, there is no conveniently poor village.

So when Geralt becomes particularly amorous (which is usually Jaskier’s fault and he’s  _ not  _ sorry. It’s just so, so fun to tease his sexually repressed Witcher, to see Geralt go all flushed and squirmy before he finally  _ snaps _ ) they have to cope in other ways.

Those nights, Geralt will get to fuck Jaskier's thighs instead; growling and snarling like an animal while he drives his blood-hot prick into the warm, smooth clench between the bard's legs, bumping up harshly against his sensitive balls from behind until Jaskier is squealing on every thrust, the slick, sticky mess of their mixing precome getting  _ everywhere _ .

It feels so good to force the human down, to cover him entirely and push in as close as possible. So good to let the dumb animal instinct take over, a mindless drive to mate and breed and take, take,  _ take  _ that is entirely irrational considering that Geralt is sterile and, even if he wasn’t, Jaskier is a man and cannot carry children.

Maybe it’s part of his weird wolfy Witcher genome. Maybe they just have a kink.

Geralt had been terribly embarrassed the first time he’d gone all cave-man on his lover.

It was an impulse he usually kept under a very tight lid (after that one time he scared a poor working girl half to death with his snarling and snapping) but, alas, Jaskier just had not stopped prodding. Waving his delectable ass at Geralt like a bitch in heat, turning every word or action as they set up camp into some depraved innuendo - _ the fucking mouth on him. _

And because that pretty mouth and throat were off-limits for Geralt’s cock (or any cock for that matter. Jaskier was understandably concerned with protecting his vocal cords and Geralt liked to threaten men with a free-of-charge gelding should they disrespect the bard’s wishes), Geralt had forced Jaskier onto his belly instead.

He’d intended to scruff the wanton creature, give him just a little taste of Witcher strength before letting him go again but instead of signaling  _ yield _ , Jaskier had groaned and let his mouth run even  _ more _ ;

“Fuck yeah, you’re so big and strong. Want to put me in my place? Want to fuck your little bard good and proper?”

And Geralt had let out a growl so fierce he’d made himself jump, tearing away from the fragile human body so he wouldn’t do exactly as Jaskier suggested.

Jaskier, the good soul, merely laughed at the slip, shutting down Geralt’s nervous apologies with a chuckle and an enticing shake of his shapely behind.

“Come on up, you big lout. I wanna try it between the thighs; made them all nice and smooth for you.”

“ _ F- fuck _ .”  _ he really did _ .

When Geralt tugged down Jaskier’s bright purple breeches, he saw that the bard had indeed gotten rid of the hair between his legs and a bit down the inside of his thighs, baring the butter-soft skin to Geralt’s bugging eyes and questing fingers.

“You- you didn’t have to do that. You know I like your body hair,” Geralt whispered, feeling abruptly guilty. Had he said or done anything that made Jaskier uncomfortable? That hadn’t ever been his intention.

“Shush, darling, don’t follow that rabbit. I know you like my fuzz and I do too but we also both like it if you fuck me. So. Thought we could try it like this? Didn’t want your poor dick to chafe or anything,” he threw Geralt a cheeky wink, “The mage said it would hold for two weeks, then it’ll start growing back.”

“Hm.”

It really was  _ very _ nice. And smooth.

Geralt drew in a hissing breath as he squeezed the meat of Jaskier’s thighs, his cock throbbing when he thought of how good all that plush softness would feel around him. He thumbed at Jaskier’s heavy sack, playing idly with the two sensitive lumps inside. The bard was hard, too, and Geralt growled when he caught the scent of precome beading at his tip.

“Come on big boy, show me what you got.”

Geralt didn’t need to be told again.

With a bitten-off snarl, he freed himself from his own trousers, finding the little vial of salve Jaskier kept in his pocket to smooth their tumbles and smearing its content generously over the inviting expanse of heated skin.

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck- _

Geralt was not exactly proud of the way he mounted Jaskier like a greedy beast - _ but it was so good. _

The first thrust missed its mark and his length slid up against the bard’s sweet ass instead, catching against the tight little clench of his hole and Geralt, as always, nearly lost his mind at the size difference. It always looked like it shouldn’t, couldn’t ever fit but he knew, if they had time, Jaskier would open up for him, let him inside even though it was so hard and Geralt keened at the memory, pushing his prick down on the next thrust so it would slide between the human’s legs instead.

The feeling of the head of his cock riding up against Jaskier’s tight balls was a bit of a revelation and Geralt thankfully didn’t have to say anything for the bard to squeeze his legs together. He doubted he’d be able to formulate even a single coherent word.

The press of Jaskier’s thighs was not as hot or snug as his cunt but the position, the  _ movement  _ was much the same. It triggered Geralt in a way that would have honestly been pretty scary if Jaskier hadn’t been loudly encouraging, crying out as Geralt clamped one arm around the human’s waist to hold him still and started rutting into the clench of Jaskier’s thighs with brutal, animalistic fervor.

“Yeah fuck, give it to me Geralt, FUCK-”

Geralt didn’t even think about what he was doing. His jaw opened on the muscle of his mate’s shoulder and he clamped down, not hard enough to break skin but to  _ hold on _ , to ride out the jolt at the sudden pain and force the willing body even lower, making Jaskier present like a bitch in heat for the fat, juicy cock fucking him, angling his hips up invitingly against the powerful thrusts.

The scent of fresh, human seed was all that Geralt registered of Jaskier’s orgasm and the musky thick scent tipped him over the edge as well, throat aching, raw, from the inhuman growl filling his chest.

Geralt rode it out in a frenzy, high on the harsh slap of skin on skin, listening rapturously to the heartbeat of his mate and his delighted cries.

It took ages for the aftershocks to taper off. Every throb of Geralt’s aching balls sending shivers of fucked-out pleasure up and down his spine and a fresh spurt of seed running down his shaft. If he had put that load inside Jaskier, he thought absently, the bard would have been dripping for hours if not  _ days _ .

Only sluggishly he became aware of their surroundings. The chirping of birds in the trees. Roach grazing somewhere to the right. His death-grip on Jaskier’s body.

“Easy, love,” Jaskier murmured, gently patting the arm that’s like a vice around his middle, helping Geralt relax enough to let go.

Shame set in like a slow wave.

There was a reason Geralt kept these urges under a lid most of the time and the big bruise forming on Jaskier’s neck (and likely on the back of his ass and legs) reminded him of it. When Jaskier flopped onto his back though, staring up at his Witcher with half-lidded eyes and looking thoroughly wrecked, there was nothing but hazy pleasure in his scent. His heartbeat, too, was calming quickly. There was nothing to suggest he felt scared or otherwise distressed.

Geralt breathed a sigh of relief, though the embarrassment at his loss of control lingered.

He didn’t really know what to do now, or where to look, eyes drawn automatically to where Jaskier’s skin was flushed red and covered in seed.

With the human on his back, Geralt could see the extent of the hair removal; baring Jaskier’s crotch but retaining the thick swirls of hair on his belly. Geralt’s fingers immediately itched to explore the delicate wrinkles at the base of his flaccid penis, wanting to clean up the mess of fatty salve and come that covered everything including the swell of Jaskier’s much-abused balls.

Breaking him out of his indecision, Jaskier made grabby motions towards his Witcher. “It’s alright,” he said, “Come cuddle a moment, then we can try for a second round.”

Geralt eagerly took him up on the offer, crowding close and hoping for a kiss that was immediately granted.

“Was- was that okay? I shouldn’t have been so rough with you...”

“It was exactly what I wanted. Thank you, Geralt.” Jaskier said gently, pulling Geralt down to rest against his chest, “I know you find it hard to believe, but that animalistic streak of yours  _ really  _ does it for me.” he laughed softly, “Next time we should do it on the bedrolls though. Are my knees bleeding? It feels that way.”

They weren’t. But Geralt still insisted on applying healing salve to the reddened skin as well to Jaskier’s arms and his slightly sore ass. The bard did not mind, allowing Geralt to fuss and fret freely until he was satisfied and ready to settle down.

Truth be told, Jaskier had not expected quite such a strong reaction from his teasing but he couldn’t wait to do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~shdfdgfd writing in past tense is so confusing! I don't think I'll make a habit out of it :'D~~


End file.
